


Dear Brother

by CaveOfChaos



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, LATE S2 SPOILERS, Minor Character Death, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26327341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveOfChaos/pseuds/CaveOfChaos
Summary: Sylnan had noticed something was off with Br'aad, he hadn't realized it was this bad.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my friend for going through and editing this book for me! And :)

Sylnan played with his fingers as he watched Mountain give a deep laugh to something that Taxi has muttered. Something was off, and everyone knew it. Br’aad should be down here drinking with the party, not up in his room doing gods know what. Sylnan had tried to ignore it, the change of tone, the small rage that fluttered through Br’aad’s eyes when he had met Sylnan’s gaze. It was too hard not to lash out and ask, but he knew that Br’aad would turn it on him like he had a few days back.

Taxi had tried to comfort Sylnan for upwards of an hour because of it, even as Sylnan tried to explain himself. Sylnan watched the false smiling eyes of the party as they chatted. They all seemed so worried about Sylnan now, he always noticed the side glances they gave him, the comforting comments. Even when Br’aad disappeared much more often and was growing more and more withdrawn.

“I’m going to retire for the night, I’m exhausted.” Sylnan laughed, not feeling it in his soul. The party waved their goodbyes, giving him looks of pity. Br’aad hadn't even offered to perform for free lodging for them or himself, he had insisted they all pay for themselves. No one even seemed to notice. 

The inn was a decent place for the most part. Well, anything was better than where he and Br’aad had lived in the Wharf. It was all a bit old though, an up side was that the old locks weren’t the best. Sylnan recalled the memory of which room Br’aad had slipped into. It was 105, five doors from Sylnan’s room.

He gave a light tap on the cream colored door. He waited a second, nothing in return. He knocked once more, nothing, thrice, no answer. Hoping he didn’t have to break in anywhere, he tried the door handle. Nothing. It was always nothing.

Sucking in a sigh, Sylnan pulled his lock picks from his pocket. He looked about to check there were no others into the hall as he broke into his brother’s room.

Click…. Click…. ….. Click… Click.

He gently swung the door open. The old wood released a loud creak, he held his breath, hoping he wouldn’t alert anyone of his presence. He shifted his gaze across the room. It was a mess which was almost a relief, Br’aad’s rooms were always messy. 

But this mess wasn’t right. It was constructed. It was all wrong. Sylnan felt panic rise up his stomach. He was planning something. What was Br’aad doing? He moved the clothes strategically sprawled across the floors. He knew how Br’aad thought, he was careless enough to leave something important under a pant leg.

There was nothing. Sylnan’s breath quickened, there was never nothing. If he was Br’aad, where would he hide something he wanted no one to see? Somewhere he wanted Sylnan not to see?

Jammed under one of the bed slats. It was such a stupidly obvious place, people would never check there for something they deemed important. He remembered Br’aad hiding his doll under his bed in the orphanage, whenever the workers did ‘check-ins’ to make sure there was nothing ‘unsafe’ in their room. It was never found.

Sylnan took in a breath, dropping down to look under the bed. There it was. He remembered what it was, he had seen it before. It cursed his memories.

The hand on his brother’s face, the purple marking of that trickster fiend, Ob’nockshai. That damned book, Br’aad had kept it all this time.

Sylnan pulled it from its place hidden under the bed slats. His brown eyes shift across the symbols unreadable to him. He whispered a curse, why did he have to not know how to read? Why did that crystal have to break?

He flipped through the pages, his fingers frantically looking for something he could decipher. 

Soft footfall pulled his eyes from the book. A figure stood above him, a murderous smirk painted his face. Sylnan dropped the book and stood.

“Uh, Br’aad I was just looking for you.”

The figure’s eyes narrowed to him. They were off, the green that enveloped them were poisoned by a purple tracing the edges. The tattoos that had only recently turned gold had that familiar purple seething along the edges. 

“He died.” Br’aad’s face fell into a frown filled with a fierce hatred.

“Who?” 

“Brandon, Alwyn, Dad, whatever you want to call him. And guess what?” Br’aad leaned in close to Sylnan’s ear. “I killed him. And it was all because of you.”

His breath hitched as he felt something cold and sharp dig into his stomach. 

“I won’t kill you, I’ll just make you wish you were dead. Again.” Br’aad’s unusually sharp eyes latched onto Sylnan’s. 

Sylnan kept the dagger in his stomach, even as the blade felt as though it was burning into him. He couldn’t risk bleeding out, not like this. He pulled one of his daggers from his belt, holding it in his other hand as blood leaked into another. 

“Please Br’aad. Don’t do this. It’s Ob, he’s got you wrapped around his finger again, please. I’m your brother.” He begged.

Br’aad gave him a cold stare, a smile returned to his face. “Oh dear brother, blood is only what falls to the floor once you bleed out. And I’ll make them think it was you who made it happen. Who killed Hilltree.”

Sylnan stared in horror. His lungs hurt as he inhaled sharply. He could feel his eyes edging with tears. He stiffened. What had Br’aad done? Hilltree was who he had when he didn’t have Br’aad. And now Br’aad had killed him. “Please Br’aad, this isn’t you.”

“Now, every good killer needs a good exit, yes?” He ignored Sylnan’s plead. All Sylnan could do was watch as Br’aad grabbed his armed hand, slicing himself across the chest. Sylnan loosened his grip out of shock, leaving the dagger to clatter to the ground. Br’aad shoved him over to the closed window. “Bye bye.” Br’aad’s mouth flickered with the pain across this chest. Sylnan opened his mouth to say something, anything. 

Before anything could be said, he was falling, shards of glass cutting into his back. The smiling face of his brother was no longer one of happiness, but once of revenge as he stared from the broken window sill. He twisted to his side to see the ground quickly approaching.

As pain wrapped his body in a blanket of darkness while he made a final impact on the bottom, he realised he was all alone again. He would be branded as a murderer by his only friends, and he couldn’t say otherwise. Not with Br’aad around with his convincing words. 

Impact hit. Darkness fell.


	2. Words

Br’aad stared at the crumpled body at the bottom of the building. He sneered, Sylnan would be back up. But Br’aad knew he wouldn't be coming back. The blood that dripped from his chest stung. Br’aad wished he didn’t have to slice that dagger across his chest but he needed to sell it. 

Br’aad shoved the book of Ob back into its rightful place under his bed. He eyed the dagger that Sylnan had dropped, which didn’t have nearly enough blood on it to have killed Hilltree. He pulled a small vial from the pink bag that hung at his side. Carefully, he dumped some of Hilltree’s blood onto the blade. He looked at the empty glass, littered with Hilltree’s blood. Br’aad considered what to do with it for a moment. He decided on dripping the little bit left only the unconscious form of Sylnan at the base of the building. Then, he chucked the vial into the furthest street he could. The perfect crime.

‘You know what to do next. The plan is in motion. Soon, you will be able to bring him back.’ Ob’nockshai’s message seeped into his mind.

Br’aad couldn’t help but think about his brother’s pleads. “Did we have to frame Sylnan?”

‘My son, we are just framing a murderer for another killing. Remember, blood is only bone deep.’

Br’aad took a shaky breath. He felt the panic and tears he would soon put to use. He ran over his character in his mind. A person who cares for Sylnan, who doesn't know Hilltree is dead, who is very upset over his death.

Br’aad clutched his chest with a hiss, limping from the room. He caught a few eyes, not that he cared. The tavern was not too far, as he reached the open doorway, a hoarse shout reached his throat. “Taxi, Vel, Mountain!”

The room's collective heads turned. Only the party, or what was left of it, ran to assist Br’aad as he toppled into someone’s arms. He really couldn’t tell from the false tears clouding his vision.

“S-Sylnan. He bro- he broke into my room and then he… he tried to kill me. He sliced me and I called out and and- oh gods I stabbed my own brother”

“Br’aad, what? Sylnan did this? What’s going on?” It was Vel’s voice, calm and quiet. 

“I literally just tried to explain it- I don’t know. I mean yeah, he’s been acting off lately but I never expected… this.” He let his voice break.

“Let’s get you up to your room, we can get away from these people and I can heal you.” Vel patted his arm, leading him back up to his room. Perfect. 

“Do you know where he went?” Mountain’s gruff voice was filled with urgency, “Is he still up there?”

“N-no he broke through my window and ran out after he attacked me. I-I had to stab him. I don’t know if he was trying to kill me. He probably wasn’t. It was probably just an accident.”

Taxi stared at the half-elf, “A scratch that deep isn’t an accident. He knew what he was doing.”

They had reached Br’aad room now, he had left the door wide open to make it seem he ran out in a hurry. 

“Take a seat, I’ll heal you.” Br’aad sat on his bed as the tiefling used her magic to heal him, the purple glow pulsed through his veins as the hurting across his chest dissolved into nothing.

He muttered a thanks. A smile almost crept across his mouth as he remembered whatever damage Sylnan had taken from that fall would have to be dealt with because Vel wasn’t there to heal him. That poor, poor killer. 

Taxi and Mountain surveyed the constructed room, finding that Sylnan had dropped a dagger and the shattered glass fell to an empty street, a few drops of blood tracked to the empty street below. A sigh of relief was almost let loose as the plan fell into place perfectly.

“You said you had to stab him?” Mountain asked, turning towards Br’aad.

Fear, both real and fake, filled his face, “I didn’t want to. I had to. He almost killed me. I didn’t know what to do. I just stabbed him in the gut, he’ll be okay. I just didn’t want him to-”

“-kill you,” Taxi finished. “It’s okay. So he’s injured, he couldn’t have gotten far. Maybe he has an explanation to all of this.”

“But where can we find him?” Vel stood up, “This city is huge, he could be almost anywhere.”

“Maybe he has something in his room?” Br’aad suggested, know exactly what didn’t lay six feet in that room. “Like in his bags?”

Taxi considered it for a moment. “Maybe.”

The party made their way five doors over, to the room emanating a strange stench. Br’aad sucked in a breath, “Can anyone lock pick?”

“Sylnan ca- oh, right.” Mountain muttered. He raised his leg up, delivering a powerful kick, knocking the door in two.

“Mountain, you know we’re gonna have to pay for that-” Vel interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath as the party took in the sight of what ‘Sylnan’ had done. 

Blood spattered in groups across the flooring. A familiar green figure lay in the middle of the wide pool of blood.

“Hilltree.” A hushed whisper came from the party in unison before rushing forwards. Vel rushed across the bloody pond that had formed. 

“He’s gone.” She whispered, turning back to the party, tears visible at the edges of her eyes. “Sylnan must have slit his throat. He didn’t put up much of a fight.”

Br’aad grabbed his head as he rehearsed. “No, no no, no no no, no. Not Hilltree too.”

Taxi stood in stunned silence as Mountain pushed past. His eye was turning red from the water running down his face. “We can’t let Sylnan get away with this. Scour the room. I want nothing left unturned. We need to find him and make him pay for what he did to Hilltree and Br’aad.”

‘Look how well the plan is going, Br’aad. Just like I said, words are louder than blood. And when you mix the two… it’s unstoppable.’ Ob’s warm voice echoed in his room. A satisfied smile leaked across his face as he searched the room for clues he planted.

A killer would be punished. Ob’nockshai would make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	3. Friends

A few minutes before…

Sylnan coughed out a breath, his body was filled with pain. His head was burning with a headache, the hand that had cushioned his fall felt like it was on fire. With all the fiery pain down his side, something was definitely wrong with him. He sucked in a breath, pushing himself up with his good hand. Sylnan still didn’t dare try and pull out the dagger lodged in his gut.

He couldn’t bleed out now. Sylnan winced, holding himself against a wall. He needed Vel to heal him.

“Shit…” He whispered, the word hurt his throat. A collection of salty tears fell from his face, getting in his wounds. He couldn’t ask Vel, not right now. Sylnan turned his head to the empty window above him. Br’aad was already turning them against him. If he could get Vel, Taxi, or Mountain away from Br’aad he might have a chance.

But he was in no shape to do anything right now, not with the amount of blood on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on getting somewhere. He took a few shaky steps down the alley between buildings, eventually getting to the street on the other side. 

The half-elf scanned the shops and street. At least one person out here would know healing magic and be able to help him.

He draped himself on the front of the shop on the other side of the inn, sinking to the ground. Some eyes looked away and continued their walks, but one eye that noticed him was familiar. It was that mushroom doctor that had helped Redd what felt like forever ago. 

He flinched, suddenly very aware of the pain across his body. The doctor quickly moved his way towards Sylnan. 

“What happened to you?” The doctor whispered as he retrieved a small red mushroom creature from his pocket.

“Oh nothing much.” A cough caught at his throat. 

Octavius dropped the little mushroom creature onto the floor by his side. The mushroom climbed up onto Sylnan, releasing fumes that lessened a pain a bit.

“Now, for the dagger,” The doctor mumbled, with a swift motion, he pulled the dagger from Sylnan’s gut. Sylnan sucked in a breath. Another mushroom waddled over to heal the wound. “Good thing you kept that in, you could have bled out had I not been here.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sylnan managed, still hissing at the pain.

Octavius, grabbed his bad arm, gently pulling him to his feet. “So tell me, what happened to you?”

“I got stabbed then thrown out of a building.” He really didn’t feel like elaborating.

“Why didn’t you ask that tiefling cleric of yours to heal you?”

“It’s… complicated.” It really wasn’t. Br’aad had done something to Hilltree, Sylnan hoping it was nothing more than a kidnapping. Though, he wouldn’t put it past Ob’nockshai to convince Br’aad to kill him. He squeezed his eyes shut pretending nothing was wrong for a second. That Br’aad was still his brother, that Hilltree was alright, and that the Fated were all five.  
“Hm. Well, it seems we’ve reached the tavern I’m currently working inside of. This way.” He led Sylnan through the doors and into a chair. He released a few more mushroom men. “Take a deep breath in. They can’t heal you fully, but they’ll heal you enough to walk.”

“And fight?”

“Give it a few days, you’ll need rest. Maybe some of your friends can tend to you?--”

“No.”

Octavius gave a sigh. “What actually happened? I’ve gathered that someone in The Fated threw you through a window and stabbed you. Who was it and why?”

Sylnan dumped his head in his non injured hand, he took in a breath. The mushroom’s healing spores coursed through his blood. He gave a small twitched as the pain of healing ran up and down his bones. He hissed as it tickled across his skin. He felt a heavy sensation that felt like a fizz ran up his body as most of the pain disappeared as his skin and bones healed best they could.

“Oh, wow, thank you.” Sylnan adjusted himself in his seat, feeling a bit dizzy. He bit his lip, hoping to avoid the question the healer had posed.  
“Now you owe me an answer.”

Sylnan stared up at Octavius. “Answer what?”

The doctor stared at him. And stared. Sylnan had to look away. “It was Br’aad. He’s possessed or something. He f-framed me. For murder. For the murder of Hilltree.”

“Your goblin friend?”

Sylnan nodded reluctantly, he felt tears poking at his eyes. He pulled his mouth into a tight smile. 

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I don’t think he’s dead. Br’aad wouldn’t have done that. He probably just hid him somewhere.” He gave a dry laugh, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Either way, if you’re going to convince your friends to see Br’aad as an enemy or fight him at all, you’ll need some rest.” The doctor gestured for him to stand. Carefully, Sylnan staggered to his feet. His side was still sore as he followed Octavius with a limp. “I’m currently renting a room for myself in this tavern’s sister inn.” They walked outside. Sylnan almost tripped and fell onto the gravel as his stiff leg caught on a larger rock, though the doctor didn’t seem to be paying attention.

As they reached the doorway Octavius twisted to look at Sylnan with a halt. “What?” Sylnan muttered, his brow furrowed.

“I will rent you a room under one condition.” Sylnan grabbed onto a large flower pot outside the building to keep himself steady as his leg felt too weak. “You need to get a good night’s rest so all my work doesn’t go to waste.”

“Ugh, fine.” Sylnan grumbled out, pushing off the flower pot and through the doors and the doctor gave a curt nod and walked to the desk. 

“One more room, please.” Octavius gave a kind smile to the woman working the reception. The room was 

“Uh, one gold piece per night again, sir.” The woman replayed, shifting a weary eye to Sylnan’s bloodied appearance.

Octivious gave the woman a gold piece, taking the key from her hand. He leaned in close to Sylnan as he limped his way towards the rooms. “You should probably bathe some of that blood off.”

“Sorry, I’ve been a little busy almost bleeding out. Oh, by the way, what are you even doing here?”

“I travel.” He shrugged. He dropped the keys into Sylnan’s palms. “Room twelve. Go get some sleep.”

Sylnan sighed, finding his way to his room. As he unlocked the door, exhaustion hit him. He really did need sleep. He shoved and locked the door behind him. 

The dried blood stuck to his skin as he peeled off his clothes. He needed to wash all of this for sure. Of course, the side he had fallen on was all torn up along with a stab wound. There was no saving these clothes, Sylnan needed a new pair. It wasn’t like he had the time or money to do such a thing. He needed to help Br’aad.

A yawn escaped him. He needed sleep first.

He flopped down onto the reasonably clean sheets. The four walls and ceilings of white where his only company as he drifted off to sleep.


	4. Foes

Br’aad took a seat at the wooden table as the last three of the fated situated themselves. Mountain smashed his hand across the table.

“I can’t believe this.” Mountain’s voice rose so loud Br’aad was sure the whole tavern could hear. “How could Sylnan betray us like this? How come we didn’t know he was still communicating with that demon.”

“Maybe the demon just overtook him or-” Taxi began.

“It doesn’t matter. Hilltree is dead. And his blood, it’s on Sylnan’s hands.” Mountain slammed his infinite flask down before taking a long sip.

“Mountian’s right, those drawings we found in his room was definitely something he knew about and didn’t tell us. He killed Hilltree. We need to find him and, well, take care of him.” Velrisa rose her voice.

Br’aad quickly glazed over her idea to kill Sylnan, not giving anyone a chance to reject it. “But where can we find him? He did get injured when I- you know- stabbed him. Maybe he’s at a healer’s place?”

“Look, I understand how important this is but we need to get some rest to be ready for a fight. Who knows who Sylnan has under his thumb.” Taxi looked across the party, a weary expression crossing his feline features.

“Good idea, but, what are we going to do about Hilltree?” Br’aad frowned, a smirk behind his lips.  
Mountain gave a long sigh, burying his head in his arms. Velrisa sat up straighter, tears still reddened the corners of her eyes. “We can burn the body in the morning like a proper funeral. Wake up early.”

Vel stands up, wishing a good night and makes her way to her room. Taxi goes next, then Mountain. Leaving Br’aad to be by himself with his thoughts. He had killed his brother. His only surviving blood.

For now.

But words are stronger than blood, as Ob’nockshai had said. He’d get through this. He would bring back what was lost.

Br’aad would be the hero of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heroes never die


	5. Dreams

“Sylnan! Sylnan!” Shouts pulled Sylnan from his thoughts. A little half-elf pushed through the doors of the room the Rat King had let them stay in. He held something above his head.

“Br’aad? What’s wrong?” Sylnan rushed forwards to the little boy.

“I got a book!” He jumped up and down, waving around what he had held above his head. He sat down onto the floor, opening the pages. He tapped the ground next to him. Sylnan reluctantly dumped himself on the filthy floors.

“Who got you that?” Sylnan looked down at the pictures. They depicted two older   
brothers who looked much like Sylnan and Br’aad. He pulled it from his little brother’s hands. He pointed down at scribbles of words he couldn’t read. “What does that say?”

Br’aad peered down at the book. “It says ‘Two half-elf brothers talked hap- happy-ly-- happily, finally meeting each other again.’”

Br’aad carefully flipped the page. A drawing of the brother who looked like Br’aad showing off characters who looked very much like the three other fated. “The yo- younger brother had made friends.”

The page was turned. Sylnan jerked back, staring at the page before him. The picture showed Sylnan stabbed through the chest, a blue orc smiling as Br’aad cries over his body. “Then, the older of the two died. The younger one wanted to get him back.”

The next page. “He traveled the lands to get him back with his friends.”

Br’aad’s young hands turned the page. It showed the Br’aad killing a figure who looked very much like Brendon while Sylnan rises from the grave. “A life for a life goes both ways.”

The other side of the page depicted Sylnan getting stabbed through the neck as Brendon or Aylwn rose from the grave. 

Br’aad’s voice sounded older now, purple tattoos crossed his skin as his young green eyes changed to purple. “A life for a life.”

Sylnan felt the knife nearing his neck.

He shot up, breathing heavy, a cold sweat covered his skin. It was just a dream, just a dream. Br’aad was fine-- no. No he wasn’t. Ob’nocksahi had him twisted around his finger, and Br’aad was holding on. Sylnan needed to get Br’aad back. He needed his little brother.

His body still was sore all over from the fall, but much more functional thanks to Octavius’s little mushroom boys.

He looked around the blank room the doctor had paid for. He threw his head back onto the pillow, twisting to see out the window. It was dawn, a new day would come.  
And he would bring Br’aad back.

He needed to know how to break a bond between patron and deity. But there was an issue, Sylnan couldn’t read. He’d prefer to keep this to himself and suffer through useless picture books but he needed his brother back.

Sylnan dressed in his still dirtied clothes and got himself ready for the busy day ahead, careful not to be too violent on the still tender areas of his bruised bones.

The doctor sat quietly at a table in the tavern. He sipped a warm drink, his glasses at the edge of his nose as he read something.

“Octavius?” Sylnan cleared his throat as he limped over to a seat at the table. The man looked up at him, worried in his eyes.

“Did you get enough rest?” Sylnan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. I need a favor.”

“Another one?”

Sylnan gave a sigh, “I need you to do some research for me.” 

“About what?”

“How to destroy a person’s connection with their deity.”

Octavius looked at him curiously, “So Br’aad is being controlled by a deity then.”

“No… well, yes…. actually, maybe.”

“I’ll do it. But, I need you to do something for me.”

Sylnan nodded, willing him to continue. 

“Relax and let yourself heal.”

Sylnan frowned as Octivius smiled. He didn’t have time to rest and heal, he needed to know if Hilltree was okay, if Br’aad could be saved.

“Fine, fine. Just hurry.”

Octivius gave a smile before excusing himself to the library. Sylnan sat along at the table for a few moments. He was still caked in blood, he recalled still having a few coins on him, maybe he could clean off in a bath house or something. He limped out of the building, eyes flickered over to him as he walked the streets to a river he had seen earlier in the week.

Looking around to check no one was following him, he cleaned off himself and his clothes in the waters.

Some crusty blood still stuck to his skin but he was mostly clean. The only issue now, besides Br’aad being a possible murderer and out to kill him and that his whole side was still in a little pain, was that his clothes were wet.

In his soggy blood stained clothes, he went back to the inn and climbed up the steps to the room he remembered being his.

Sylnan set his clothes to dry on a window sill. He shivered, it was freezing. He wrapped himself in the lonely blanket in his room, taking a nap and waiting for them to dry.

The sun was much higher in the sky now, it was probably an hour or two after he had put the clothes on the window. They were still a little soggy but they would dry over time.

He slowly paced around the room. What should he do? If he could read, he would read a book. If he could walk, he would go for a jog. But he couldn’t do anything. He peered out the window, looking out onto the crowds of people wondering about. Few caught his eye.

This reminded him much of the orphanage. Somedays, the boys weren’t allowed outside. So, Sylnan would watch the people from their small windows.

He’d tell Br’aad stories of those passing below. Br’aad would always laugh or smile when he told them. Sylnan missed that. He missed his brother.

But someone who passed by stared straight back at him. Green eyes flashing purple.


	6. Failures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive miscounted the numbers of chapters twice, i'm sorry it keeps changing:/

Br’aad had false tears trailing down his face for far too long. They needed to find Sylnan. He really didn’t care much for Hilltree anyways, he wasn’t a good fight.

The ashes of the goblin’s broken form were cleaned from the floors after the ‘Fated’ had said their words of grief. 

Mountain ordered them about, telling them what to bring and where each group should look.

Br’aad had been paired with Taxi. it wouldn’t be hard to tell the cat what to do. They made their way outside. Br’aad waved Taxi over to where Sylnan had ‘landed’, blood splattered.  
“Looks like a harsh landing.” Taxi mumbled. Br’aad carefully studied the red mess until he noted the blood that traced the side of the wall.

“This way.” He motioned his hand. Soon, Sylnan would fall. He was so close. Br’aad’s green eyes locked onto the blood across the front of a building. Most of it had been cleaned off but it was still easy enough to see. The trail ended with the gravel that was constantly kicked about by travellers. 

“Let’s cross.” Br’aad nodded across the street. An inn sat at the end of the street while another was next to a tavern a little ways down it. After they had crossed, Br’aad gazed up at the windows. Mostly humans stared back, a few halflings, then there was a familiar half-elf in the closet inn. He gave a glance to make sure Taxi wasn’t looking. The half-elf took notice of the blond below him. Br’aad let his eyes flicker the purple Sylnan so despised. “You run head to the other inn, I’ll check out this one.”

“O-okay.” Taxi edged away to the furthest. Easy enough.

Br’aad raced inside the building, Taxi far away now. 

“Sir! What are you-?” He shoved aside a woman who tried to block his path to the stairs. He pushed tables out of his path. He was up the small flight of stairs in no time. Which room, which room.

“Sir? Sir? Can I help you?” Workers called out. 

Which door, which door. It was a corner window. Sylnan would jump out the side soon. He needed to be quick. Quick. Quick. Quick.

Room twelve would make sense for the window placement. He didn’t even give a courtesy knock.

He shot a blast into the door of arconic energy, shattering it to pieces. Gasps came from the crowd of people who were gathered at his chaos.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE ME, SYLNAN.” He rushed into the room, a figure leaped from the window. Br’aad followed suit.

Br’aad rolled from the fall behind Sylnan. Sylnan’s cloak billowed in the winds of their running. Br’aad took notice of the limp in one of Sylnan’s legs. He could easily catch him. Sylnan looked back, his chest quickly rising and falling with his strides. The pain of running on whatever injuries he had gotten were slowing him down.

Sylnan turned back to the world in front of him. Br’aad released his hold on the spell that made it seem as though his tattoos weren’t purple and that his eyes were their natural green.   
“You can’t run for long, dear brother.”

Sylnan stopped for a split second, then jumped up on a window. He flinched. Br’aad saw it.

Br’aad climbed up behind him.

“Br’aad, please.” Sylnan begged. Br’aad smiled. How foolish, to think a few words would stop Br’aad from what he must do. Br’aad took a few steps forwards, his eyes locked onto his brother’s.

“Sylnan, please.” He mocked, ripping a dagger from its sheath. Sylnan sucked in a breath, turning back to running.

He grabbed hold of the long flowing cloak, trying to choke his older brother. Sylnan cut it loose with the blade Br’aad had stabbed him with.

Br’aad should have taken Sylnan’s life when he could, but it was much for fun to watch him realise his brother wasn’t coming back and his friends knew he was a killer. 

Br’aad smiled at the thought of the horror in his dark eyes. He noticed the slowing pace of Sylnan as they leaped from rooftop to rooftop to window sill to roof to roof. Sylnan slid down from a smaller building into the back alley. Br’aad followed, landing by his side.

Br’aad stopped for a second to catch his breath as Sylnan caught his too.

“Please.” Sylnan’s voice sounded pained as he looked to his brother. Another wasted breath.

“Don’t waste the few words you have left, dear brother.” 

Sylnan stood up straighter. Br’aad’s eyes flickered to where he adjusted his dagger.

“Bold of you to assume these are my last words.” He lunged forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soon...


	7. An End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything must come to an end.

Sylnan and Br’aad’s daggers clashed between them. Br’aad’s eyes were impossible to read, just cold and calculated. Sylnan tried desperately to find any spark of life in them.

“Br’aad, please, I know you’re in there somewhere.” He growled, his eyes anxiously looked across Br’aad, looking for any sign of his little brother.

“I’m right here.” Br’aad’s voice was violent as he detached his dagger from its place stuck next to Sylnan’s.

Br’aad took a stab at him as Sylnan jumped back. He probably won’t last long, not with his leg injury. 

Br’aad tried for a right hook with his free hand. Though Sylnan tried to escape it, it twisted his neck up, causing a massive headache on top of his already sore head.

Sylnan steadied himself, still dizzy. “Br’aad, this isn’t you, it’s Ob’nockshai.”

Br’aad gave a smile. “Hilltree trusted me, y’know?” He lugged as Sylnan blocked another blow. Br’aad gritted his teeth. “So when that blade sliced through his neck, he was so confused. He grabbed his neck, but it wasn’t enough to stop the bleeding.”

Sylnan shoved Br’aad forwards, knocking him a bit off balanced. Instinctively, a punch came flying into Br’aad’s face. “Stop it.”

Br’aad stared at him, a grin slowing growing across his features. Blood laced the tops of his teeth as blood traced his face from Sylnan’s powerful punch. “He couldn’t even scream. He was talking about surprising you too, because you were acting differently. This was quite the surprise, wasn’t it?”

Sylnan’s eyes widened. Though tears touched the tips of his eyes, all he felt was rage. How could Br’aad do this? Br’aad wasn’t Br’aad anymore. He helplessly longed for something to save. He swung a fist again, grabbing his brother’s vest.

“How dare you.” A pounch flew.

A smile.

“You killed my best friend.”

Br’aad’s amused purple eyes locked with his older brother’s face. Blood trailed his features. “I put up a good fight at least, right?”

The amusement drained to anger. Br’aad gripped on to Sylnan’s arm, digging in and drawing blood. Synan’s hand shocked under the pressure, giving enough room for Br’aad to pull himself free. 

Sylnan caught Br’aad’s blade against his skin. Br’aad’s bloodied face gave a devilish grin. He strikes again, Sylnan felt it slice along his arm. He let out a hiss.

Sylnan swiped to hit Br’aad who narrowly dodged it. “His blood is on your hands, Sylnan.” His words were poison. If only Sylnan had noticed how off Br’aad truly was, but he was far too busy worrying about himself. Then Hilltree would be alive right now. Then Br’aad would be okay right now.

Caught off guard, Br’aad’s blade landed true in Sylnan's shoulder. He let out a yell. Sylnan did his best to retaliate, but the pain across his body felt much more prevalent. He threw the dagger, pulling another one free from his sheath. 

Br’aad screamed as it embedded it’s in his lower chest. Br’aad stared down at the blade locked in his skin. Slowly, he turned his eyes back up to Sylnan. “So much blood on your hands.” His breathing was labored but he gave a weak strike back. Sylnan dodged it easily.

Sylnan elbowed him in the chest as he leaped forwards, knocking his brother to the ground. Grabbing onto his shirt, he felt anger rising, risin, rising. His hand was rising. His dagger was rising.

Sylnan stared down at his brother, his dagger raised above him as he held the cuff of Br’aad’s vest. The bloodied form of Br’aad gazed up at him. The eyes of hatred melted away as the purple turned back to green.

“Sylnan… I’m so sorry.” Tears peeked at the corners of his little brother’s eyes. Maybe he was back, maybe he had realised. Sylnan released his grip on Br’aad, fear evident in his eyes. Br’aad stared up back at him, terror encasing his face. Sylnan’s face softened, his baby brother was back. Maybe he was free from whatever grasp Ob’nockshai had on him.

“Br’aad?” He said, dropping down next to him. Br’aad’s green eyes locked onto him. His eyes harden, turning purple in a matter of milliseconds. A sharp feeling pierced his neck. He felt the feeling of blood drain from his skin but all he could do was look at Br’aad. His brother leaned in close.

“A life for a life, dear brother.”

And the red dripped.

And dripped.

And dripped.

And dripped.

The face of Kathrine’s worried expression pulled him from a darkness quickly approaching. Her eyes had tears catching at the sides. The beautiful fields around her felt bittersweet.

“I’m so sorry.”


End file.
